Part 4 (2/2)
”Digby,” said Mr Heathcote, when his son and heir stood before him, ”did you take the linch-pins out of the carriages last night?”
Digby thought a moment.
”No, I did not,” he answered firmly.
”Do you know anything about the matter,” said Mr Heathcote, somewhat astonished but firmly believing the a.s.sertion. Oh what a blessed thing is that perfect confidence in the honour and truthfulness of those connected with us.
”Do you say that I must answer that question, papa?” said Digby.
”I do not wish to force you to say anything,” remarked Mr Heathcote, ”but I do wish to ascertain how the circ.u.mstance occurred.”
Digby thought for some time, while his father sat looking at him.
”I should like to know how you intend to punish the person who committed the mischief,” he said at last.
”If you had done it, I should probably have flogged you, and have sent you off to school, as soon as I could find a suitable one. That would have been a lenient punishment for you. A poor boy would be flogged and sent to the house of correction.”
”Then you must send me to school, papa, though I should be glad if you would omit the flogging,” replied Digby, frankly. ”I will not say who played the trick; but, as I see somebody ought to be punished, I'm ready to suffer, as I think I ought.”
Mr Bowdler was very much interested in hearing this conversation, and certainly thought very much better of Digby than he had before been inclined to do. ”There is a great deal in that boy which may bring forth good fruit, if it is properly developed,” he said to himself. It made him very anxious that Digby should go to some school where the moral as well as intellectual qualities of the boys were attended to.
Mr Heathcote did not wish to press the matter further on his son. He was convinced that he was innocent of the act committed, and he had no doubt of the real delinquent. Still he was very unwilling to have to punish Julian, and he wished to pa.s.s the matter over, unless the boy was positively accused before him of the crime. Digby was told that he might go back to the schoolroom and prepare for Mr Crammer.
Mr Bowdler had heard Mr Nugent, Mrs Heathcote's brother, very highly spoken of, and he recommended that Digby should be placed under him till a good school could be found.
Mr Heathcote liked the notion. He could not bear the idea of having Digby far separated from him. Not that he saw much of the boy, but he liked to feel and know that he was near him. He fancied that he was getting on very well with Mr Crammer, and, now that so excellent a governess had come to instruct him, he thought that his education would be well provided for. He promised Mr Bowdler, therefore, that he would ride over to Osberton and get his brother-in-law to take charge of Digby.
Mr Bowdler, on his part, undertook to make inquiries for a good school for the boy.
”I will send young Julian home,” said Mr Heathcote. ”I see no particular harm in him. He seems a quiet, inoffensive lad; but, as you think it advisable, it will be a good excuse for separating the two.”
”Yes, a very good excuse,” said Mr Bowdler.
Julian had been with Digby when the footman summoned him into his father's presence. He waited anxiously for his return.
”You've not peached, I hope, Digby?” said he.
”No, indeed,” answered Digby, rather proudly. ”I wasn't going to tell a story, either. Your name wasn't mentioned, so you need not be afraid.”
”That's jolly,” exclaimed Julian, brightening up. ”I was afraid that you would be letting the cat out of the bag.”
”I don't know exactly what that means,” answered Digby; ”I said that if some one was to be punished I was ready to suffer, and so I'm to be sent off to school, and that's not very pleasant, let me tell you. Not that I mind the idea of school. It may be a very good sort of place; but I don't like to have to leave so many pleasant things behind me. What will my poor dear old dog Tomboy do without me? And there's my pretty pony Juniper, which papa only bought last spring for me, and which I've taught to know me and follow me about the field like a dog. How many pleasant rides I expected to have on him; and he will have forgotten all about me when I come back. Then I was to have gone out shooting with John Pratt in September; and I'm pretty certain papa would have got me a small gun, for I know he would like to see me a good shot; he's a first-rate one himself. John says he'll back me up to kill a brace of partridges within a week after I get my gun; but all that's come to an end. Then we were to have had such capital fis.h.i.+ng. John has been getting my tackle ready for me, and has made me a prime rod, much better than can be bought in the shops. Trap and ball, and hoops, and cricket, and marbles--not that I ever can endure marbles--and rounders, and prisoner's base, and all those sort of games, can be had at school even better than at home, with the fellows one may pick up; so that won't make any difference. But, as far as I can make out, they don't let one go out birds'-nesting, or ferreting, or cross-bow shooting, or badger hunting, or any of those sort of things which John Pratt is up to.
Schools must be very slow places, that's my opinion. I don't suppose we might even blow up a wasps' nest, if we were to find one. If John Pratt might go and live near, and take me out every day, and have some fun or other, I shouldn't mind it. Then, you see, I don't like leaving Kate and little Gusty. What Kate will do without me I do not know at all. I hope Miss Apsley will treat her kindly; if he don't I'll--” and Digby looked very fierce, but said nothing more.
”If you don't like school, all you've to do is to run away,” said Julian, ever ready to offer evil counsel. ”That's what I would do, I know; or, if you don't like the idea of going there, run away before.
Send to me, and I'll help you; I'm always ready to help a friend in need.”
”Thank you,” said Digby; ”oh, I know you would be, but I promised my father that I would go willingly if he wished to send me; so go I must.”
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